Body Guard Read Free Page B

somewhere in his mid-thirties, possibly nearing forty. But he had one of those faces that aged well and appeared healthily free of wrinkles. Sandy, straight hair fell from a part designed to cover a thinning spot on his crown. He had blue eyes that bulged slightly, hinting of a possible thyroid problem. “First, I’d like to know a little about your qualifications. What guarantees can you offer for such work, Mr.—ah— Kirk?”
    Kirk smiled. His face lost some of its lean wariness and made him look even younger than Humphries had assumed.
    “As I mentioned yesterday, we don’t often do such work. But if we can’t help you, I’ll recommend several agencies who might.”
    “If you can’t do it, why did you tell me to come down here?” Humphries almost added, “And then make me stand waiting at your door.”
    “I said we don’t often do it. It depends.”
    “On what?”
    The young man ticked off the points on three fingers. “On the reasons you need protection. On the nature of the protection you need. On the range of commitment you’re asking for.” He leaned back and placed his fingers together just in front of his chin. Humphries had an intimation that despite his youthfulness, the man might be very capable indeed. Certainly he spoke like a gentleman and not out of the side of his mouth as he’d assumed private detectives usually did.
    “Do you want to give me a little background?” Kirk watched Humphries think it over for a few seconds. The long fingers of the man’s left hand twisted a ring on his right. The large wad of ornately carved gold bore Greek letters on its red stone. That, the suit, the supple leather of his shoes, all breathed money, and Kirk was glad the building’s cleaning crew had made its rounds last night.
    “I’m not sure how long we’ll need—ah—protection. I’m not even sure I should be here. But my wife insisted.” Kirk said nothing to help out and Humphries took a deep breath. “I think I’m being followed.”
    “Why, Mr. Humphries?”
    “Well, I’ve seen this car repeatedly. A brown one. And I’m also sure there have been prowlers around my house.”
    Kirk was more specific. “Why would someone want to follow you?”
    “I don’t know. That’s one of the things I want you to find out. But someone’s watching me, and I’m worried. My wife and I are both worried.”
    “Have you gone to the police? It would save a lot of money and probably be very effective.”
    “I’ve talked to a policeman. An Officer Fredericks. He said there was nothing they could do. He said no crime had been committed yet.” Humphries snorted angrily. “I guess I’m supposed to wait until after I’ve been attacked to file a complaint.”
    Devlin studied the man’s pale eyes and wondered what he was hiding from him and why. It wouldn’t be the first time a client held back the real reason he needed a private detective. “If we do take the assignment, Mr. Humphries, we’ll need to know as much as you do about why someone might want to follow you.”
    “I just told you I don’t know! I came here for help, not to be insulted.” The man drew his feet under the chair as if to stand. Kirk said nothing. The moment teetered until Humphries sighed again and the stiffness went out of his shoulders. “If I knew—if I had any inkling—I would tell you.” He added, “After all, I do have more than a passing interest in the matter.”
    “You say your wife insisted that you come here?”
    “That I get protection.” Humphries liked precision. “I was the one who selected your firm, based on the recommendation of someone you worked for previously.”
    “Oh? Who’s that?”
    “Owen McAllister.” The name had weight, Humphries knew, and he borrowed some of it. “We were having drinks the other day and he happened to mention you.”
    “I’m grateful. What do you do, Mr. Humphries? Tell me about yourself.”
    The implied answer was that Humphries was rich enough to do nothing if he